A moſt pleaſant Comedy of
Mucedorus the Kings Son of
Valentia, and
Amadine the Kings Daughter
of Aragon.
Enter Comedy joyfully, with a Garland of Bays on her head.
WHy ſo thus do I hope to pleaſe;
Muſick revives, and mirth is tolerable:
Comedy play thy part and pleaſe;
Make merry them that come to joy with thee:
Joy then Good Gentiles, I hope to make you laugh;
Sound forth Bellona's ſilver tuned ſtrings;
Time fits us well, the day and place is ours.
Enter Envy, his arms naked, beſmeared with blood.
Envy.
Nay ſtay minion, ſtay, there lies a block;
What all on mirth? Ile interrupt your tale,
And mix your muſick with a Tragick end.
Comedy.
What monſtruous ugly nag is this,
That dares controul the pleaſures of our will?
Vaunt churliſh Cur, beſmear'd with gory blood,
That ſeem'ſt to check the bloſſom of Delight,
And ſtill the ſound of ſweet Bellona's breath:
Bluſh monſter, bluſh, and poſt away with ſhame,
That ſeekſt diſturbance of a Goddeſs name.
Envy.
Poſt hence thy ſelf thou counterchecking Trull,
I will poſſeſs this habit ſpight of thee,
And gain the glory of this wiſhed Port.
Ile thunder muſick ſhall appale the Nymphs,
And make them ſhiver their clattering ſtrings,
Flying for ſuccour to their Daniſh Caves.
Sound Drums within, and cry, Stab, Stab.
Hearken, thou ſhalt hear noiſe
Shall fill the air with ſhrilling ſound,
And thunder muſick to the Gods above:
Mars ſhall himſelf breath down
A peerleſs crown upon brave Envies head,
And raiſe his chival with a laſting fame:
In this brave muſick Envy takes delight,
Where I may ſee them wallow in their blood,
To ſpurn at Arms and Legs quite ſhivered off,
And hear the cries of many thouſands ſlain:
How lik'ſt thou this my Trull? 'tis ſport alone for me.
Com.
Vaunt bloody Cur, nurſt up with Tygers ſap,
That ſo doſt quail a womans mind:
Comedy is mild, gentle, willing for to pleaſe,
And ſeeks to gain the love of all eſtates;
Delighting in mirth, mixt all with lovely tales,
And bringeth things with treble joy to paſs.
Thou bloody, envious, diſdainer of mens joys;
Whoſe name is fraught with bloody ſtratagems.
Delights in nothing but in ſpoil and death,
Where thou mayſt trample in their lukewarm blood,
And graſp their hearts within thy curſed paws:
Yet vail thy mind, revenge thee not on me,
A ſilly woman begs it at thy hands;
Give me the leave to utter out my Play.
Forbear this place, I humbly crave thee hence,
And mix not death 'mongſt pleaſing Comedies,
That treats nought elſe but pleaſure and delight:
If any ſpark of humane reſts in thee,
Forbear, be gone, tender the ſuit of me.
Envy.
Why ſo I will; forbearance ſhall be ſuch,
As treble death ſhall croſs thee with deſpight,
And make thee mourn where moſt thou joyeſt,
Turning thy mirth into a deadly dole,
Whirling thy pleaſures with a peal of death,
And drench thy methods in a ſea of blood;
Thus will I do: Thus ſhall I bear with thee,
And more, to vex thee with a deeper ſpight,
I will with threats of blood begin the play,
Favouring thee with Envy and with Hate.
Com.
Then ugly monſter do thy worſt,
I will defend them in deſpight of thee:
And though thou thinkeſt with Tragick f
•…
me
•
To prove my Play unto my great diſgrace▪
I force it not, I ſcorn what thou canſt do▪
Ile grace it ſo, thy ſelf ſhall it confeſs,
From Tragick ſtuff, to be a pleaſant Comedie.
Envy.
Why then Comedy ſend the Actors forth,
And I will croſs the firſt ſtep of their Trade,
Making them fear the very dart of death.
Com.
And Ile defend them mangre all thy ſpight;
So ugly fiend farewell till time ſhall ſerve,
That we may meet to parley for the beſt.
Envy.
Content Comedy, Ile go ſpread my branch,
And ſcattered bloſſoms from mine envious Tree,
Shall prove two Monſters ſpoiling of their joys.
Exit.
Sound.
Enter, Mucedorus, and Anſelmo his friend.
Muc.
Anſelmo?
Anſel.
My Lord and friend,
Whoſe dear affections boſome with my he
•••
,
And keep their domination in one Orb;
Whence near diſloyalty ſhall root it forth,
But faith plant firmer in your choiſe reſpect.
Muce.
Mcuh blame were mine if I ſhould other deem,
Nor can coy fortune contrary allow:
But my Anſelmo, loth I am to ſay I muſt enſtrange that friendſhip:
Miſconſture not, 'tis from the Realm, not thee:
Though Lands part bodies, Hearts keep company:
Thou know'ſt that I imparted often have
Private raltions with my Royall Syre
Had, as concerning beauteous Amadine,
Rich Aragons bright Jewell: whoſe face (ſome ſay)
That blooming Lillies never ſhone ſo gay:
Excelling not excel'd; yet leſt report
Does mangle Verity, boaſting of what is not
Wing'd with Deſire, thither Ile ſtraight repair,
And be my fortunes at my thoughts are, fair.
Anſel.
Will you forſake Valentia? leave the Court?
Abſent you from the eye of Soveraignty,
Do not ſweet Prince, adventure on that task,
Since danger lurks each where, he won from it.
Muce.
Deſiſt diſſawſion,
My Reſolution brooks no battery,
Therefore if thou retain thy wonted form,
Aſſiſt what I intend▪
Anſel.
Your miſs will breed a blemiſh in the Court,
And throw a froſty dew upon that beard,
Whoſe front Valentia ſtoops to.
Muce.
If thou my welfare tender, then no more;
Let Loves ſtrong Magick charm thy triviall phraſe,
Waſted as vainly as to gripe the Sun:
Augment not then more anſwer; lock thy lips,
Unleſs thy wiſdom ſ
•
re me with diſguiſe,
According to my purpoſe.
Anſel.
That action craves no councels,
Since what you rightly are, will more comm
•
nd,
Th
••
beſt uſurped ſhape.
Muce.
Thou ſtill art oppoſite in diſpoſition.
A more obſcure ſervile habiliment
Beſeems this enterpriſe.
Anſel.
Then like a Florentine or Mountebanke.
Muc.
'Tis much too tedious, I diſlike thy judgement,
My mind is grafted on an humbler ſtock.
Anſel.
Within my cloſſet does there hang a Caſſock,
Though baſe the weed is, 'twas a Shepherds,
Which I preſented in Lord Julius Mask.
Muce.
That my Anſelmo, and none elſe but that,
Mask Mucedorus from the vulgar view:
That habite ſuits my mind, fetch me that weed.
Exit Anſelmo.
Better then Kings have not diſdain'd that ſtate,
And much inferiour, to obtain their mate.
Enter Anſelmo with a Shepherds coat.
So, let our reſpect command thy ſecrecie,
At once a brief farewell,
Delay to Lovers is a ſecond Hell.
Exit. Mucedorus.
Anſel.
Proſperitie fore-run thee: Auckward chance,
Never be neighbour to thy wiſhes venture,
Content and Fame advance thee. Ever thrive,
And glory thy mortality ſurvive.
Enter Mouſe, with a bottle of hay.
Mouſe.
O horrible terrible! Was ever poor Gentleman ſo ſcar'd out of his ſeven ſenſes? A Bear? Nay ſure it cannot be a Bear, but ſome Devil in a Bears doublet: for a Bear could never have had that agility to have frighted me. Well, Ile ſee my father hang'd before Ile ſerve his Horſe any more: Well, Ile carry home my bottle of hay, and for once make my fathers Horſe turn Puritan, and obſerve Faſting days, for he gets not a bit. But ſoft, this way ſhe followed me, therefore Ile take the other path, and becauſe Ile be ſure to have an eye to her, I will ſhake hands with ſome fooliſh Creditor, and make every ſtep backward.
As he goes backward, the Bear comes in, and he tumbles over her, and runs away, and leaves his bottle of hay behind him.
Enter Segaſto running, and Amadine after him, being Purſued with a Bear.
Seg.
O flie Madam, flie, or elſe we are but dead.
Ama.
Help Segaſto, help, help ſweet Segaſto, or elſe I die.
Segaſto runs away.
Segaſt.
Alas Madam there is no way but flight.
Then haſte and ſave your ſelf.
Ama.
Why then I dye. Ah help me in diſtreſs.
Enter Mucedorus like a Shepherd, with a ſword drawn, and a Bears head in his hand.
Muce.
Stay Lady, ſtay, and be no more diſmaid,
That cruel beaſt moſt mercileſs and fell,
Affrighted many with his hard purſues,
Prying from place to place to find his prey,
Prolonging thus his life by others death:
His carkaſs now lies headleſs void of breath.
Ama.
That foul deformed Monſter, is he dead?
Muce.
Aſſure your ſelf thereof, behold his head.
Which if it pleaſe you Lady to accept,
With willing heart I yield it to your Majeſtie.
Ama.
Thanks worthy Shepherd, thanks a thouſand times.
This gift aſſure thy ſe
•
f contents me more,
Than greateſt bounty of a mighty Prince,
Although he were the Monarch of the world.
Muce.
Moſt gratious Goddeſs, more than mortal wight,
Your heavenly hue of right imports no leſs,
Moſt glad am I, in that it was my chance
To undertake this enterpriſe in hand,
Which doth ſo greatly glad our princely mind.
Ama
No Goddeſs (Shepherd) but a mortall wight,
A mortall wight diſtreſſed as thou ſeeſt;
My father here is King of Aragon,
I Amadine his only drughter am,
And after him ſole air unto the Crown:
Now whereas it is my fathers will,
To marrie me unto Segaſto,
One whoſe wealth through Fathers former uſury,
Is known to be no leſs then wonderfull;
We both of cuſtome oftentimes did uſe,
(Leaving the Court) to walk within the fields
For recreation, eſpecially the Spring,
In that it yields great ſtore of rare delights:
And paſſing further then our wonted walks,
Scarce entered within theſe luckleſs woods,
But right before us down a ſteepfall hill,
A monſtrous ugly Bear did hie him faſt
To meet us both: I faint to tell the reſt.
Good Shepherd but ſuppoſe the gaſtly looks,
The hideous fears, the hundred thouſand woes
Which at this inſtant Amadine ſuſtain'd.
Muce.
Yet worthy Princeſs let thy ſorrow ceaſe,
And let this ſight your former joys revive.
Ama.
Believe me Shepherd, ſo it doth no leſs.
Muce
Long may they laſt unto your hearts content,
But tell me Lady, what is become of him?
Segaſto cal'd; what is become of him?
Ama.
I know not I, that know the powers divine,
But God grant this, that ſweet Segaſto live.
Muce.
Yet hard hearted he in ſuch a caſe,
So cowardly to ſave him
〈◊〉
by flight,
And leave ſo brave a Princeſs to the ſpoil.
Ama.
Well Shepherd, for thy worthy valour tried,
Endangering thy ſelf to ſet me free,
Unrecompenced ſure thou ſhalt not be:
In Court thy courage ſhall be plainly known,
Throughout the Kingdom will I ſpread thy name,
To thy renoun and never dying fame:
And that thy courage may be better known,
Bear thou the head of this moſt monſtrous beaſt,
In open ſight to every Courtiers view:
So will the King my father thee reward.
Come let's away, and guard me to the Court.
Muce.
With all my heart.
Exeunt.
Enter Segaſto ſolus.
Segaſt.
When heaps of harms do hover over head,
Tis time as then (ſome ſay) to look about,
And of enſuing harms to chuſe the leaſt,
But hard, yea hapleſs is that wretches chance,
Luckleſs his lot, and caitiff-like accurſt,
At whoſe proceedings Fortune ever frowns:
My ſelf I mean moſt ſubject unto thrall:
For I, the more I ſeek to ſhun the worſt,
The more by proof I finde my ſelf accurſt.
Ere whiles aſſaulted with an ugly Bear,
Fair Amadine in company all alone,
Forthwith by flight I thought to ſave my ſelf,
Leaving my Amadine unto her ſhifts:
For death it was for to reſiſt the Bear,
And death no leſs of Amadines harms to hear.
Accurſed I, in lingring life thus long:
In living thus, each minute of an hour
Doth pierce my heart with darts of thouſand deaths:
If ſhe by flight her fury doth eſcape,
What will ſhe think?
Will ſhe not ſay, yea flatlie to my face,
Accuſing me of meer diſloyaltie.
A truſty friend is tried in time of need
But I, when ſhe in danger was of death,
And needed me, and cried, Segaſto help,
I turn'd my back and quicklie ran away,
Unworthy I to bear this vital breath,
But what, what need thoſe plaints?
If Amadine do live, then happy I,
She will in time forgive and ſo forget:
Amadine is merciful, not Iuno like,
In harmful hearts to harbour hatred long.
Enter Mouſe the Clown running, crying clubs.
Mou.
Clubs, Prongs; Pitchforks, Bills: O help,
A Bear, a Bear, a Bear.
Seg.
Still Bears, and nothing but Bears.
Tell me ſirrah where ſhe is.
Clow.
O ſir, ſhe is run down the woods,
I ſaw her white head, and her white belly.
Segaſt.
Thou talkſt of wonders, to tell me of white Bears.
But ſirrah, didſt thou ever ſee any ſuch?
Clow.
No faith, I never ſaw any ſuch:
But I remember my fathers words,
He bad me take heed I was not caught with the white Bear.
Segaſt.
A lamentable tale no doubt.
Clow.
Ile tell you what ſir, as I was going a field to ſerve my fathers great Horſe, and carried a bottle of hay upon my head: Now do you ſee ſir, I faſt hudwinkt that I ſhould ſee nothing, I perceiving the Bear coming, I threw my hay into the hedge, and ran away.
Segaſt.
What from nothing?
Clow.
I warrant you yes, I ſaw ſomething: for there was two load of thorns beſides my bottle of hay, and that made three.
Segaſt.
But tell me ſirrah: the Bear that thou didſt ſee,
Did ſhe not bear a bucket on her arm?
Clow.
Ha, ha, ha, I never ſaw a Bear go a milking in all my life. But hark you ſir, I did not look ſo high as her arm, I ſaw nothing but her white head, and her white belly.
Segaſt.
But tell me ſirrah: where doſt thou dwell?
Clow.
Why do you not know me?
Segaſt.
Why no, how ſhould I know thee?
Clow.
Why then you know no body, and you know not me; I tell you ſir, I am goodman Rats Son of the next pariſh over the hill.
Segaſt.
Goodman Rats ſon, whats thy name?
Clow.
Why I am very neer kin unto him.
Segaſt.
I think ſo, but whats thy name?
Clow.
My name? I have a very pretty name. Ile tell you what my name is, my name is Mouſe.
Segaſt.
What plain Mouſe?
Clow.
I plain Mouſe, without either w
•
lt or guard.
But do you hear ſir, I am a very young Mouſe, for my tail is ſcarce grown out yet; look here elſe.
Segaſt.
But I pray you who gave you that name?
Clow.
Faith Sir, I know not that, but if you would fain know ask my fathers great Horſe, for he hath been half a year longer with my father than I have been.
Segaſt.
This ſeems to be a merry fellow,
I care not if I take him home with me:
Mirth is a comfort to a troubled mind.
A merry man a merry Maſter makes.
How ſaiſt thou ſirrah, wilt thou dwell with me?
Clow.
Nay ſoft ſir, two words to a bargain. Pray what Occupation are you?
Segaſt.
No Occupation, I live upon my lands.
Clow.
Your lands? away, yea are no Maſter for me. Why, do you think that I am ſo mad to go to ſeek my living in the lands among the ſtones, bryers, and buſhes, and tear my holy day apparel? not I by your leave.
Segaſt.
Why, I do not mean thou ſhalt.
Clow.
How then?
Seg.
Why thou ſhalt be my man and wait on me at Court:
Clow.
Whats that?
Segaſt.
Where the King lies.
Clow.
What is that King, a man or a woman?
Segaſt.
A man as thou art.
Clow.
As I am: Hark you ſir, pray you what kin is he to goodman King of our pariſh the Church warden?
Segaſt.
No kin to him, he is the King of the whole Land.
Clow.
King of the whole Land! I never ſaw him.
Seg.
If thou wilt dwel with me thou ſhalt ſee him every day.
Clo.
Shall I go home again to be torn in pieces with Bears?
No not I, I will go home and put on a clean ſhirt, and then go drown my ſelf.
Seg.
Thou ſhalt not need, if thou wilt dwell with me, thou ſhalt want nothing.
Clo.
Shall I not? then heres my hand, Ile dwell with you: And harky on ſir, now you have entertained me, Ile tell you what I can do, I can keep my tongue from picking and ſtealing, and my hands from lying and ſlandering I warrant you as well as ever you had any man in your life.
Segaſt.
Now will I to Court with ſorrowful heart, rounded with doubts: If Amadine do live, then happy I; yea happy I if Amadine do live.
Enter the King with a young priſoner, Amadine, Tremelio, with Collin and Counſellors.
King.
Now brave Lords, our wars are brought to end,
Our foes the foil, and we in ſafetie reſt:
It us behoves to uſe ſuch clemency in peace,
As valour in the wars;
Tis as great honour to be bountiful at home,
As conquerors in the field.
Therefore my Lords, the more to my content,
Your liking, and our Countries ſafeguard,
We are diſpoſ'd in Marriage for to give
Our Daughter unto Lord Segaſto here,
Who ſhall ſucceed the Diadem after me,
And reign hereafter as I tofore have done,
Your ſole and lawful King of Aragon.
What ſay you Lordlings like you of my advice?
Col.
An't pleaſe your Majeſtie, we do not only allow of your Higneſs pleaſure, but alſo vow faithfullie in what we may, to further it.
King.
Thanks good my Lords, if long Adraſtus live,
He will it
••
l
•
require your courteſies.
Tremelio, in recompence of thy late valour done,
Take unto thee the Catelone a Prince,
Lately our priſoner taken in the wars:
Be thou his keeper, his ranſome ſhall be thine:
Wee'll think of it when leiſure ſhall afford:
Mean while do uſe him well, his father is a King.
Tre.
Thanks to your Majeſtie, his uſage ſhall be ſuch,
As he thereat ſhall have no cauſe to grutch.
Exit.
King.
Then march we on to Court, and reſt our wearied limbs.
But Collin, I have a tale in ſecret fit for thee,
When thou ſhalt hear a watch-word from thy King,
Think then ſome weighty matter is at hand,
That highly ſhall concern our ſtate,
Then Collin look thou be not far from me,
And for thy ſervice thou to fore haſt done,
Thy truth and valour prov'd in every point,
I ſhall with bounties thee enlarge therefore,
So guard us to the Court.
Col.
What ſo my Soveraign doth command me do,
With willing minde I gladly yeeld conſent.
Exeunt.
Enter Segaſto, and the Clown, with weapons about him.
Seg.
Tell me ſirrah, how do you like your weapons?
Clow.
O very well, very well, they keep my ſides warm.
Seg.
They keep the dogs from your ſhins well, do they not?
Clow.
How, keep the dogs from my ſhins? I would ſcorn but my ſhins ſhould keep the dogs from them.
Segaſt.
Well Sirrah, leaving idle talk, tell me,
Doſt thou know Captain Tremelios chamber?
Clow.
I very well, it hath a door.
Segaſt.
I think ſo, for ſo hath every chamber:
But doſt thou know the man?
Clow.
I forſooth, he hath a noſe on his face.
Seg.
Why ſ:o hath every one.
Clo.
Thats more then I know.
Seg.
But doſt thou remember the Captain that was here with the King that brought the young Prince priſoner?
Clow.
O very well.
Segaſt.
Go to him, and bid him come unto me:
Tell him I have a matter in ſecret to impart to him.
Clow.
I will Maſter, what's his name?
Segaſt.
Why Captain Tremelio.
Clow.
O, the meal-man; I know him very well,
He brings meal every Saturday; But hark you Maſter,
Muſt I bid him come to you, or muſt you come to him?
Segaſt.
No ſirrah, he muſt come to me.
Clow.
Hark you Maſter, if he be not at home,
What ſhall I do then?
Segaſt.
Why then leave word with ſome of his folks.
Clow.
O Maſter if there be no body within,
I will leave word with his dog.
Segaſt.
Why can his dog ſpeak?
Clow.
I cannot tell, wherefore doth he keep his chamber elſe?
Segaſt.
To keep out ſuch knaves as thou art.
Clow.
Nay by Lady then go your ſelf.
Segaſt.
You will go ſir, will you not?
Clow.
Yes marry will I▪ O tis come to my head:
And he be not within, Ile bring his chamber to you.
Segaſt.
What, will you pluck down the Kings houſe?
Clow.
No by Lady, Ile know the price of it firſt.
Maſter, it is ſuch a hard name I have forgotten it again:
I pray you tell me his name.
Segaſt.
I tell thee Captain Tremelio.
Clow.
O Captain treble knave, Captain treble knave.
Enter Tremelio.
Tre.
How now ſirrah, doſt thou call me?
Clow.
You muſt come to my Maſter. Captain treble knave.
Tre.
My Lord Segaſt. did you ſend for me?
Segaſt.
I did Tremelio, Sirrah, about your buſineſs.
Clow.
I marry, whats that, can you tell?
Segaſt.
No not well.
Clo.
Marry then I can, ſtraight to the Kitchin-dreſſer to John the Cook, and get me a good piece of Bief and Brewis, and then to the Buttery hatch to Thomas the Butler for a Jack of Beer: and there for an hour Ile ſo belabour my ſelf, and therefore I pray you call me not till you think I have done, I pray you good Maſter.
Exit.
Segaſt.
Well Sir, away.
Tremelio.
This it is, thou knoweſt the valour of Segaſto.
Spread through all the kingdom of Aragon,
And ſuch as have found triumph and favours,
Never daunted at any time: but now a Shepherd,
Admired in Court for worthineſs,
And Segaſtoes honour laid aſide:
My will therefore is this, that thou doſt finde ſome means to work the Shepherds death: I know thy ſtrength ſufficient to perform my deſire, and to love no otherwiſe then to revenge my injuries.
Tre.
It is not the frowns of a Shepherd that Tremelio fears:
Therefore account it accompliſh'd what I take in hand.
Segaſt.
Thanks good Tremelio, and aſſure thy ſelf,
What I promiſe, that I will perform.
Tre.
Thanks good my Lord: And in good time:
See where he cometh; ſtand by awhile,
And you ſhall ſee me put in practiſe your intended drift.
Have at thee Swain, if that I hit thee right.
Enter Mucedorus.
Muce.
Vild Coward, ſo without cauſe to ſtrike a man:
Turn Coward, turn: now ſtrike and do thy worſt.
Mucedorus killeth him.
Segaſt.
Hold Shepherd, hold, ſpare him, kill him not:
Accurſed villain, tell me, what haſt thou done?
Ah Tremelio, Truſty Tremelio, I ſorrow for thy death,
And ſince that thou living didſt prove faithful to Segaſto,
So Segaſto now living will honour the dead
Corps of Tremelio with revenge.
Blood-thirſty villain, born and bred in mercileſs murder,
Tell me, how durſt thou be ſo bold,
As once to lay thy hands upon the leaſt of mine?
Aſſure thy ſelf, thou ſhalt be uſ'd according to the Law.
Muce.
Segaſto ceaſe, theſe threats are needleſs,
Accuſe me not of murder, that have done nothing
But in mine own defence.
Segaſt.
Nay Shepherd, reaſon not with me,
Ile manifeſt thy fact unto the King;
Whoſe doom will be thy death, as thou deſerveſt.
What hoe: Mouſe come away.
Enter Mouſe.
Clow.
Why how now? what's the matter?
I thought you would be calling before I had done.
Segaſt.
Come help away with my friend.
Clow.
Why, is he drunk? can he not ſtand on his feet?
Segaſt.
No, he is not drunk, he is ſlain.
Clow.
Flain? No by Lady, he is not flain.
Segaſt.
He is kill'd I tell thee.
Clow.
What do yo uſe to kill your friends? I will ſerve you no longer.
Segaſt.
I tell thee the Shepherd killed him.
Clow.
O did he ſo? But Maſter, I will have all his apparell if I carry him away.
Segaſt.
Why ſo thou ſhalt.
Clow.
Come then I will help: Maſs Maſter I think his mother ſung looby to him, he is ſo heavy.
Exeunt.
Muce.
Behold the fickle ſtate of man, always mutable, never at one.
Sometime we feed our fancies with the ſweet of our deſires:
Sometimes again, we feel the heat of extream miſeries.
Now am I in favour about the Court and Country,
To morrow thoſe favours will turn to frowns.
To day I live revenged on my foe,
To morrow I die, my foe revenged on me.
Exit.
Enter Bremo a wild man.
Bremo.
No paſſenger this morning? what not one?
A chance that ſeldom doth befall,
What, not one? Then lie thou there,
And reſt thy ſelf til I have further need:
Now Bremo ſith thy leaſure ſo affords,
An endleſs thing, who knows not Bremoes ſtrength,
Who like a King commands within theſe woods?
The Bear, the Boar dare not abide his ſight,
But haſte away to ſave themſelvess by flight.
The Chryſtal waters in the bubling brooks,
When I come by do ſwiftly ſlide away,
And claps themſelves in cloſets under banks,
Afraid to look bold Bremo in the face.
The aged Oaks at Bremoes breath do bow,
And all things elſe are ſtill at my command.
Elſe what would I?
Rend them in pieces, and pluck them from the earth,
And each way elſe I would revenge myſelf.
Why, who comes here? with whom dare I not fight?
Who fights with me and doth not die the death? Not one.
What favour ſhews this ſturdy ſtick to thoſe
That here within theſe woods are combatants with me?
Why, death, and nothing elſe but preſent death.
With reſtleſs rage I wander through theſe woods,
No creature here, but feareth Bremoes force:
Man, woman, child, beaſt, and bird,
And every thing that doth approach my ſight,
Are forſt to fall, if Bremo once do frown.
Come, Cudgel come, my partner in my ſpoils:
For here I ſee this day it will not be,
But when it falls that I encounter any,
One pat ſufficeth for to work my will.
What, comes not one? then lets be gone,
A time will ſerve when we ſhall better ſpeed.
Exit.
Enter the King, Segaſto, the Shepherd, & the Clown, with others.
King.
Shepherd, thou ſtaft heard thine accuſers,
Murther is laid to thy charge:
What canſt thou ſay? thou haſt deſerved death.
Muce.
Dread Soveraign, I muſt needs confeſs,
I ſlew this Captain in my own defence,
Not of any malice, but by chance:
But mine accuſer hath a further meaning.
Segaſt.
Words will not here prevail.
I ſeek for juſtice, and juſtice craves his death.
King.
Shepherd, thine own confeſſion hath condemned thee;
Sirrah, take him away, and do him to execution ſtraight.
Clo.
So he ſhall, I warrant him:
But do you hear Maſter King? he is kin to a Monky,
His neck is bigger then his head.
Seg.
Come ſirrah, away with him,
And hang him about the middle.
Clo.
Yes forſooth, I warrant you, come you ſirrah:
A, ſo like a ſheep-biter a looks.
Enter Amadine, and a Boy with a Bears head.
Ama.
Dread Soveraign, and wel beloved ſir,
On bended knee I crave the life of this condemned Shepherd, which heretofore preſerved the life of thy ſometime diſtreſſed daughter.
King.
Preſerved the life of my ſometime diſtreſſed daughter!
How can that be? I never knew the time
Wherein was thou diſtreſt: I never knew the day
But that I have maintained thy eſtate,
As beſt beſeem'd the daughter of a King.
I never ſaw the Shepherd until now.
How comes it then that he preſerv'd thy life?
Ama.
Once walking with Segaſto in the woods,
Further then our accuſtomed manner was,
Right before us down a ſteep fall hill,
A monſtrous ugly Bear did hie him faſt
To meet us both: now whether this be true,
I refer it to the credit of Segaſto.
Seg.
Moſt true an't like your Majeſty.
King.
How then?
Ama.
The Bear being eager to obtain his prey,
Made forward to us with an open mouth,
As if he meant to ſwallow us both at once:
The ſight whereof did make us both to dread;
But ſpecially your daughter Amadine,
Who, for I ſaw no ſuccour incident
But in Segaſtoes valour, I grew deſperate:
And he moſt coward-like began to fly.
Left me diſtreſt to be devour'd of him,
How ſay you Segaſto, is it not true?
King.
His ſilence verifies it to be true: what then?
Ama.
Then I amaz'd, diſtreſſed all alone,
Did hie me faſt, to ſcape that ugly Bear,
But all in vain; for why he reached after me,
And hardly I did oft eſcape his paws.
Till at the length this Shepherd came,
And brought to me his head.
Come hither boy, lo here it is, which I do preſent unto your Majeſty.
King.
The ſlaughter of this Bear deſerves great fame.
Segaſt.
The ſlaughter of a man deſerves great blame.
King.
Indeed occaſion oftentimes ſo falls out.
Segaſt.
Tremelio in the wars (O King) preſerved thee.
Ama.
the Shepherd in the woods (O King) preſerved me.
Segaſt.
Tremelio fought when many men did yield.
Ama.
So would the Shepherd had he been in field.
Clow.
So would my maſter, had he not run away.
Segaſt.
Tremelio's force ſav'd thouſands from the foe,
Ama.
The Shepherds force hath many thouſand moe.
Clow.
Aye Shipſticks nothing elſe.
King.
Segaſto ceaſe to accuſe the Shepherd,
His worthineſs deſerves a recompence;
All we are bound to do the Shepherd good.
Shepherd, whereas it was my ſentence thou ſhouldſt die,
So ſhall my ſentence ſtand, for thou ſhalt die.
Segaſt.
Thanks to your Mageſtie.
King.
But ſoft Segaſto, not for this offence▪
Long maiſt thou live; and when the Siſters ſhall decree,
To cut in twain the twiſted thred of life,
Then let him die, for this I ſet him free,
And for thy valour I will honour thee.
Ama.
Thanks to your Majeſtie.
King.
Come daughter, let us now depart to honour the worthy valour of the Shepherd, with our rewards.
Exeunt.
Clow.
O Maſter, hear you, you have made a freſh hand now,
I thought you would beſhrow you: what will you do now?
You have loſt me a good occupation by this means:
Faith Maſter now I cannot hang the ſhepherd,
I pray you let me take pains to hang you,
It is but half an hours exerciſe.
Segaſt.
You are ſtill in your knavery,
But ſith I cannot have his life,
I will procure his baniſhment for ever: Come on ſirrah.
Clow.
Yes forſooth I come. Laugh at him I pray you.
Exeunt.
Enter Mucedorus ſolus.
Muce.
From Amadine, and from her Fathers Court,
With gold and ſilver and with rich rewards,
Flowing from the banks of gold and treaſures:
More may I boaſt and ſay: but I
Was never Shepherd in ſuch dignitie.
Enter the Meſſenger and the Clown.
Meſ.
All hail worthy Shepherd.
Clo.
All rain louſie Shepherd.
Muce.
Welcome my friends, from whence come you?
Meſ.
The King and Amadine greet thee well,
And after greeting done, bids thee depart the Court;
Shepherd be gone.
Clow.
Shepherd take Law-legs: fly away Shepherd.
Muce.
Whoſe words are theſe? came theſe from Amadine?
Meſ.
I, from Amadine.
Clow.
Aye from Amadine.
Muce.
Ah luckleſs fortune, worſe then Phaetons tale,
My former bliſs is now become my bale.
Clow.
What, wilt thou poyſon thy ſelf?
Muce.
My former heaven is now become my hell.
Clo.
The worſt Ale-houſe that ever I came in, in all my life.
Muce.
What ſhall I do?
Clow.
Even go hang thy ſelf.
Muce.
Can Amadine ſo churliſhly command,
To banniſh the Shepherd from her fathers Court?
Meſ.
What ſhould Shepherds do in the Court?
Clow.
What ſhould Shepherds do among us;
Have not we Lords enough on us in the Court?
Muce.
Why, Shepherds are men, and Kings are no more.
Meſ.
Shepherds are men, and maſters over their flocks.
Clow.
That's a lie, who payes them their wages then?
Meſ.
Well, you are alwayes interrupting of me:
But you were beſt to look to him, leſt you hang for him when he is gone.
Exit.
The Clown ſings.
Clow.
And you ſhall hang for company,
For leaving me alone.
Shepherd ſtand forth and hear my ſentence.
Shepherd be gone within three days, in pain of my diſpleaſure,
Shepherd be gone, Shepherd be gone, be gone, be gone, be gone.
Shepheard, Shepherd, Shepherd.
Muce.
And muſt I go? and muſt I needs depart?
Ye goodly Groves, partakers of my ſongs,
In time before when fortune did not frown,
Pour forth your plaints, and wail awhile with me;
And thou bright Sun, the comfort of my cold,
Hide, hide thy face and leave me comfortleſs;
Ye wholſome herbs and ſweet ſmelling ſavours;
Yea each thing elſe prolonging life of man,
Change, change your wonted courſe,
That I wanting your aid, in wofull ſort may die.
Enter Amadine and Ariena her maid.
Ama.
Ariena, if any body ask for me,
Make ſome excuſe till I return.
Ari.
What and Segaſto call?
Ama.
Do you the like to him, I mean not to ſtay long.
Exit.
Muce.
This voice ſo ſweet my pining ſpirit revives.
Ama.
Shepherd well me
•
, tell me how thou doſt.
Muc.
I linger life, yet wiſh for ſpeedy death.
Ama.
Shepherd, although thy baniſhment already he decreed, and all againſt my will, yet Amadine—
Muce.
Ah Amadine, to hear of baniſhment is death:
I double death to me: but ſince I muſt depart, one thing I crave.
Ama.
Say on with all my heart.
Muce.
That in abſence either far or near,
You honour me as ſervant to your name.
Ama.
Not ſo.
Muc.
And why?
Ama.
I honour thee at Soveraign of my heart.
Muc.
A Shpeherd and a Soveraign, nothing like.
Ama.
Yet like enough where there is no diſlike,
Muce.
Yet great diſlike, or elſe no baniſhment.
Ama.
Shepherd it is only Segaſto that procures thy baniſhment.
Muce.
Unworthy wights are more in jealouſie.
Ama.
Would God they would free thee from baniſhment,
Or likewiſe baniſh me.
Muce.
Amen I ſay, to have your company.
Ama.
Well Shepherd, ſith thou ſuffereſt thus for my ſake,
VVith thee in exile alſo let me live,
On this condition Shepherd thou canſt love.
Muce.
No longer love, no longer let me live.
Am.
Of late I loved one indeed, but now I love none but only thee,
Mu.
Thanks worthy Princeſs: I burn likewiſe,
Yet ſmother up the blaſt:
I dare not promiſe what I may perform.
Ama.
Well Shepherd, hark what I ſhall ſay,
I vvill return unto my fathers Court,
There for to provide me of much neceſſaries
As for my journey I ſhall think moſt fit.
This being done, I will return to thee;
Do thou therefore appoint the place
Where we may meet▪
Muce.
Down in the valley where I ſlew the Bear,
And there doth grow a fair broad branched beech
That overſhades a well, ſo who comes firſt,
Let them abide the happy meeting of it both.
How like you this?
Ama.
I like in well.
Muce
Now if you pleaſe, you may appoint the time.
Ama.
Full three hours hence, God willing I will return.
Muce.
The thanks that Paris gave the Grecian Queen,
The like doth Mucedorus yield.
Ama.
Then Mucedorus for three hours farewell.
Exit,
Muce
Your departure Lady breeds a privy pain.
Exit.
Enter Segaſtus ſolus.
Segaſt.
'Tis well Segaſto, that thou haſt thy will▪
Should ſuch a Shepherd, ſuch a ſimple Swain as he,
Eclipſe thy credit famous thorow the Court?
No, ply Segaſto, ply, let it not in Aragon be ſaid,
A Shepherd hath Segaſtoes honour won.
Enter Mouſe the Clown, calling his Maſter.
Clow.
What, hoe Maſter, will you come away?
Segaſt.
Will you come hither, I pray you, what is the matter?
Clow▪
Why, is it not paſt eleven of the clock?
Seg.
How then ſir?
Clow.
I pray you come away to dinner.
Seg.
I pray you come hither.
Clow.
Here's ſuch a do with you, will you never come?
Seg.
I pray you ſir, what news of the meſſage I ſent you about?
Clow.
I tell you all the Meſſes be on the Table already.
There wants not ſo much as a meſs of Muſtard, half an hour ago.
Seg.
Come ſir, your mind is all upon your belly,
You have forgotten what I bid you do.
Clo.
Faith, I know nothing but you bad me go to breakfaſt.
Seg.
Was that all?
Clo.
Faith I have forgotten it, the very ſcent of the meat hath made me forget it quite.
Seg.
You have forgotten the Arrand I bid you do.
Clo.
What Arrand, an arrant knave, or an arrant whore?
Seg.
Why thou knave, did I not bid thee baniſh the Shepherd.
Clo.
O the Shepherds Baſtard.
Seg.
I tell thee the Shepherds Baniſhment.
Col.
I tell you the Shepherds Baſtard ſhall be well kept,
Ile look to it my ſelf: but I pray you come away to dinner.
Seg.
Then you will not tell me whether you have baniſhed him or no?
Clo.
Why I cannot ſay baniſhment if you would give me a thouſand pounds to ſay ſo.
Seg.
Why you whorſen ſlave, have you forgotten that I ſent you and another to drive away the Shepherd?
Clo.
What an Aſs are you? here's a ſtir indeed:
Her's Meſſage, Arrant, Baniſhment, and I cannot tell what.
Seg.
I pray you ſir, ſhall I know whether you have drove him away?
Clo.
Faith I think I have, and you will not believe me, ask my ſtaff.
Seg.
Why can thy ſtaff tell?
Clo.
Why he was with me too.
Seg.
Then happy I, that have obtain'd my will.
Clo.
And happier I if you would go to dinner.
Seg.
Come ſirrah, follow me.
Clo.
I warrant you I will not loſe an inch of you now you are going to dinner: I promiſe you I thought ſeven years before I could get him away.
Enter Amadine ſola.
Ama.
God grant my long delay procures no harm
For this my tarrying fruſtrate my pretence:
My Mucedorus ſurely ſtays for me,
And thinks me over-long, at length I come,
My preſent promiſe to perform;
Ah what a thing is firm unfained love!
What is it which true love dares not attempt?
My father he may make, but I muſt match:
Segaſto loves, but Amadine muſt like
Where likes her beſt: compulſion is a thrall?
No, no, the hearty choice is all in all.
The Shepherds vertue Amadine eſteems.
But what, methinks the Shepherd is not come;
I muſe at that, the hour is at hand.
Well here Ile reſt till Mucedorus come.
She ſits down.
Enter Bremo, looking about haſtily, takes hold on her.
Bre.
A happy prey; now Bremo feed on fleſh:
Dainties Bremo, dainties thy hungry paunch to fill;
Now glut thy greedy guts with lukewarm blood:
Come fight with me, I long to ſee thee dead.
Ama.
How can ſhe fight that weapons cannot wield?
Bre.
What canſt not fight? then lie thee down and die.
Ama.
What muſt I die?
Bre.
What needs theſe words? I thirſt to ſuck thy blood.
Ama.
Yet pitty me, and let me live awhile.
Bre.
No pitty I, Ile feed upon thy fleſh,
And tear thy body peece-meal joynt by joynt.
Am.
Ah now I want my Shepherds company.
Bre.
Ile cruſh thy bones between two Oaken trees.
Am.
Haſt Shepherd, haſt, or elſe thou com'ſt too late.
Bre.
Ile ſuck the ſweetneſs from thy marrow-bones.
Ama.
Ah ſpare, ah ſpare to ſhed my guiltleſs blood.
Bre.
With this my Bat I will beat out thy brains;
Down, down I ſay, poſtrate thy ſelf upon the ground.
Ama.
Then Mucedorus farewell, my hoped joys farewell;
Yea farewell life, and welcome preſent death.
She kneels.
To thee, O God, I yield my dying ghoſt.
Bre.
Now Bremo, play thy part.
How now? what ſudden chance is this?
My limbs do tremble, and my ſinews ſhake,
My unweakned Arms have loſt their former force:
Ah Bremo, Bremo, what a foil hadſt thou,
That yet at no time was afraid,
To dare the greateſt Gods to fight with thee,
He ſtrikes.
And now wants ſtrength for one down driving blow?
Ah how my courage fails when I ſhould ſtrike!
Some new-come ſpirit abiding in my breſt,
Saith, ſpare her Bremo, ſpare her, do not kill:
Shall I ſpare her that never ſpared any?
To it Bremo, to it; ſay again:
I cannot wield my weapon in my hand,
Me thinks I ſhould not ſtrike ſo fair a one:
I think her beauty hath bewitcht my force,
Or elſe with me altred natures courſe.
Ay woman, wilt thou live in woods with me?
Ama.
Fain would I live, yet loth to live in woods.
Br.
Thou ſhalt not chooſe, it ſhall be as I ſay,
And therefore follow me.
Exeunt.
Enter Mucedorus ſolus.
Muce.
It was my will an hour ago and more,
As was my promiſe for to make return;
But other buſineſs hindred my pretence.
It is a world to ſee, when men appoints,
And purpoſely on certain things decrees,
How many things may hinder his intent:
What one would wiſh, the ſame is fartheſt off,
But yet th' appointed time cannot be paſt,
Nor hath her preſence yet prevented me:
Well here Ile ſtay, and expect her coming.
They cry within, hold him, hold him.
Some one or other is purſu'd no doubt.
Perhaps ſome ſearch for me, tis good to doubt the worſt:
Therefore Ile be gone.
Exit.
Cry within, hold him, hold him. Enter Mouſe the Clown, with a Pot.
Clo.
Hold him, hold him, hold him: here's, a ſtir indeed; here came hu after the Crier; & I was ſet cloſe at mother Nips houſe,
and there I called for three pots of Ale, as tis the manner of us Courtiers; Now ſirrah, I had taken the maidenhead of two of them, and as I was lifting up the third to my mouth, there came, hold him, hold him: now I could not tell whom to catch hold on, but I am ſure I caught one, perchance a may be in this pot; Well Ile ſee, maſs I cannot ſee him yet; well Ile look a little further; maſs he is a little ſlave if he be here: why heres no body; all this is well yet. But if the old Trot ſhould come for her pot, I marry theres the matter: but I care not, Ile face her out, and call her old ruſty, duſty, muſty, fuſty, cruſty Firebrand, and worſe then all that, and ſo face her out of her pot: but ſoft, here ſhe comes.
Enter the old woman.
Old.
Come you knave; wheres my pot you knave?
Clo.
Go look your pot, come not to me for your pot, twere good for you.
Old.
Thou lieſt thou knave, thou haſt my pot.
Clo.
You ly and you ſay it, I your pot? Ile know what Ile ſay.
Old.
What wilt thou ſay?
Clo.
But ſay I have it and thou dareſt.
Old.
Why thou knave, thou haſt not only my pot, but my drink unpaid for.
Clo.
You ly like an old▪ I will not ſay whore.
Old.
Doſt thou call me whore? Ile cap thee for my pot.
Clo.
Cap me and thou dareſt;
Search me whether I have it or no.
She ſearcheth him, and he drinketh over her head, and caſteth down the pot, ſhe ſtumbleth at it: and then they fall together by the ears: ſhe takes up her pot and runs out.
Enter Segaſto.
Seg.
How now ſirrah, whats the matter?
Clo.
O flies Maſter, flies.
Seg.
Flies, where are they?
Clo.
O here Maſter, all about your face.
Seg.
Why thou lieſt, I think thou act mad.
Clo.
Why maſter I have kild a dungcart full at the leaſt.
Seg.
Go to ſirrah, leave this idle talk, give ear to me
Clo.
How, give you one of my ears▪
Not an you were ten maſters.
Seg.
Why ſir, I pray you give ear to my words.
Clo.
I tell you I will not be made a Curtal for no mans pleaſure.
Seg.
I tell thee attend what I ſay,
Go thy ways ſtraight and rear the whole town.
Clo.
How, rear the whole town? even go your ſelf, it is more than I can do: VVhy, do you think I can rear a town, that can ſcarce rear a pot of Ale to my head,
I ſhould rear a town, ſhould I not?
Seg.
Go to the Conſtable and make a privie ſearch,
For the Shepherd is run away with the Kings daughter.
Clo.
How? is the Shepherd run away with the Kings daughter, or is the Kings daughter run away with the Shepherd?
Seg.
I cannot tell, but they are both gone together.
Clo.
VVhat a fool is ſhe to run away with the Shepherd; why I think I am a little handſomer man then the Shepherd my ſelf; but tell me Maſter, muſt I make a privie ſearch, or ſearch in the privie?
Seg.
Why doeſt thou think they will be there?
Clo.
I Cannot tell.
Seg.
Well then ſearch every where,
Leave no place unſearcht for them.
Clo.
Oh now I am in office: now will I to that old Firebrands houſe, and will not leave one place unſearched: Nay, Ile to the Ale-ſtand, and drink ſo long as I can ſtand; and when I have done, Ile let out all the reſt, to ſee if he be not hid in the Barel; and if I find him not there, Ile to the Cupbord, Ile not leave one corner of her houſe unſearcht, ifaith ye old Cruſt, Ile be with you now.
Exit.
Sound Muſicke.
Enter thee King of Valentia, Anſelmo, Roderigo, Lord Barachius, with others.
King Va.
Enough of muſick, it but adds to torment,
Delights to vexed Spirits are as dates
Set to a ſick man, which rather cloy then comfort:
Let me intreat you to intreat no more.
Muſick ceaſeth.
Rod.
Let your ſtrings ſleep, have done there:
King Va.
Mirth to a ſoul diſturb'd, are Embers turn'd,
Which ſuddain gleam with moleſtation,
But ſooner loſe their ſight for't,
Tis gold beſtow'd upon a Rioter,
Which not relieves but murthers him.
Tis a drugg given to the healthful,
Which infects, not cures.
How can a Father that hath loſt his Son,
A Prince both wiſe, vertuous, and valiant,
Take pleaſure in the idle acts of Time?
No, no, till Mucedorus I ſhall ſee again,
All joy is comfortleſs, all pleaſure pain.
Anſ.
Your Son (my Lord) is well.
King. Va.
I prethee ſpeak that thrice.
Anſel.
The Prince your Son is ſafe.
King. Va.
O where Anſelmo? ſurfet me with that.
Anſ.
In Aragon, my Liege, and at his parting,
Bound my ſecrecie,
By his affections love not to diſcloſe it:
But care of him, and pitty of your age
Makes my tongue blab what my breſt vow'd, concealment.
Kinng Va.
Thou not decieveſt me,
I ever thought thee what I finde thee now,
An upright loyal man.
But what deſire, or young-fed humor
Nurſt within his brain,
Drew him ſo privatelie to Aragon?
Anſ.
A forcing Adamant,
Love mixt with fear and doubtful jealouſie,
Whether report gilded a worthleſs Trunk,
Or Amadine deſerved her high extolment.
King Va.
See our proviſion be in readineſs,
Collect us followers of the comlieſt hue
For our chief guardians, we will thither wend;
The Chriſtal eye of Heaven ſhall not thrice wink,
Nor the green Flood ſix times his ſhoulders turn,
Till vve ſalute the Aragonian King.
Muſick ſpeak loudly novv, the ſeaſon's apt,
For former dolours are in pleaſures wrapt.
Exeunt.
Enter Mucedorus to diſguiſe himſelf.
Mu.
Now Mucedorus, whither wilt thou go?
Home to thy father to thy native ſoil,
Or trie ſome long abode within theſe woods?
Well I will hence depart and hie me home,
What hie me home ſaid I? that may not be:
In Amadine reſts my felicitie.
Then Mucedorus do as thou didſt decree,
Attire thee Hermite-like within theſe Groves:
Walk often to the Beech, and view the Well,
Make ſettles there, and ſeat thy ſelf thereon:
And when thou feel'ſt thy ſelf to be a thirſt,
Then drink a hearty draught to Amadine,
No doubt ſhe thinks on thee,
And will one day come pledge thee at this Well.
Come habit, thou art fit for me:
He diſguiſeth himſelf.
No Shepherd now, an Hermite muſt I be:
Methinks this fits me very well;
Now muſt I learn to bear a walking ſtaff,
And exerciſe ſome gravity withall.
Enter the Clown.
Clo.
Heres through the woods, and through the woods,
To look out a Shepherd, and a ſtray Kings daughter:
But ſoft, who have we here? what art thou?
Mu.
I am an Hermite.
Clo.
An Emmet, I never ſaw ſuch a big Emmet in all my life before.
Mu.
I tell you ſir, I am an Hermite,
One that leads a ſolitary life within theſe woods.
Clo.
O I know thee now; thou art he that eats up all the Hips and Haws: we could not have one piece of fat Bacon for thee all this year.
Mu.
Thou doſt miſtake me:
But I pray thee tell me, whom doſt thou ſeek in theſe woods?
Clo.
What do I ſeek? for a ſtray Kings daughter,
Run away with a Shepherd.
Mu.
A ſtray Kings daughter, run away with a Shepherd,
Wherefore, canſt thou tell?
Clo.
Yes that I can, 'tis this; my Maſter and Amadine walking one day abroad, neerer theſe woods then they were uſed (about what I cannot tell) but towards them comes running a great Bear. Now my Maſter pla
•
d the man, and ran away, and Amadine crying after him: now ſir, come, me a Shepherd, and he ſtrikes off the Bears head, now whether the Bear were dead before or no I cannot tell, for bring twenty Bears before me, and binde their hands and feet, and Ile kill them all: now ever ſince Amadine hath been in love with the Shepherd, and for good will ſhe is even run away with the Shepherd.
Mu.
What maner of man was he? canſt deſcribe him to me?
Clo.
Scribe him, ay I warrant you that I can; a was a little, low, broad, tall, narrow, big, well favoured fellow, a jerkin of white cloth, and buttons of the ſame cloth.
Muc.
Thou deſcribeſt him well, but if I chance to ſee any ſuch, pray you where ſhall I finde you, or whats your name?
Clo.
My name is called Maſter Mouſe.
Muc.
O Maſter Mouſe, I pray you what office might you bear in the Court?
Clo.
Marry ſir, I am Ruſher of the Stable.
Muc.
Oh, Uſher of the Table.
Clo.
Nay, I ſay Ruſher, and Ile prove mine Office good: for look you ſir, when any comes from under the Sea, or ſo, and a dog chance to blow his noſe backward, then with a whip I give him the good time of the day, and ſtrow Ruſhes preſently, therefore I am a Ruſher: a high Office I promiſe ye.
Muc.
But where ſhall I finde you in the Court?
Clo.
Why, where it is beſt being, either in the Kitchin eating, or in the Butterie drinking: but if you come, I will provide for thee a piece of Beef and Brewes knuckle deep in fat: pray you take pains, remember Maſter Mouſe.
Exit.
Muc.
Ay ſir, I warrant I will not forget you.
Ah Amadine, what ſhould become of her?
Whither ſhouldſt thou go ſo long unknown?
With watch and ward each paſſage is beſet,
So that ſhe cannot long eſcape unknown.
Doubtleſs, ſhe hath loſt her ſelf within theſe woods,
And wandering to and fro, ſhe ſeeks the Well,
Which yet ſhe cannot find, therefore will I ſeek her out.
Exit.
Enter Bremo and Amadine.
Bre.
Amadine, how like you Bremo and his woods?
Ama.
As like the woods of Bremoes crueltie:
Though I were dumb and could not anſwer him,
The beaſts themſelves would with relenting tears
Bewail thy ſavage and inhumane deeds.
Bre.
My love why doſt thou murmur to thy ſelf?
Speak louder, for thy Bremo hears thee not.
Ama.
My Bremo, no, the Shepherd is my Love.
Bre.
Have I not ſav'd thee from ſudden death.
Given thee leave to live that thou mighteſt love,
And doſt thou whet me on to crueltie?
Come kiſs me (ſweet) for all my favours paſt.
Ama.
I may not Bremo, therefore pardon me.
Bre.
See how ſhe flies away from me,
I will follow and give attend to her.
Denie my Love? A worm of Beautie,
I will chaſtiſe thee: come, come,
Prepare thy head upon the block.
Ama.
O ſpare me Bremo, love ſhould limit life.
Not to be made a murtherer of himſelf.
If thou wilt glut thy loving heart with blood,
Encounter with the Lion or the Bear,
And like a Wolf, prey not upon a Lamb.
Bre.
Why then doſt thou repine at me?
If thou wilt love me, thou ſhalt be my Queen,
Ile crown thee with a chaplet made of Ivory,
And make the Roſe and Lilly wait on thee:
Ile rend the burley branches from the Oak,
To ſhadow thee from burning Sun.
The Trees ſhall ſpread themſelves where thou doſt go,
And as they ſpread, Ile trace along with thee.
Ama.
You may, for who bu
•
you?
Bre.
Thou ſhalt berfed with Q
•
ails and Partridges,
With Black-birds, Larks, Thruſhes, and Nightingales.
Thy drink ſhall be goats-milk, and Chryſtal water,
Diſtilling from the Fountains and the cleareſt Springs:
And all the dainties that the woods afford,
Ile freely give thee to obtain thy love.
Ama.
You may, for who but you?
Bre.
The day Ile ſpend to recreate my love,
With all the pleaſures that I can deviſe:
And in the night Ile be thy bedfellow,
And lovingly embrace thee in my arms.
Ama.
One may, ſo may not you.
Bre.
The Satyrs and the wood-Nymphs ſhall attend on thee,
And lull thee aſleep with muſick ſound,
And in the morning when thou doſt awake,
The Lark ſhall ſing good morrow to my Queen,
And whilſt he ſings Ile kiſs mine Amadine.
Ama.
You may, for who but you?
Bre.
When thou art up, the wood-lanes ſhall be ſtrewed
With violets, Cowſlips, and ſweet Marigolds,
For thee to trample and to tread upon:
And I will teach thee how to kill the Dear,
To chaſe the Hart, and how to rouze the Roe,
If thou wilt live to love and honour me.
Ama.
You may for who but you?
Enter Mucedorus.
Bremo.
Welcome ſir, an hour ago I lookt for ſuch a gueſt,
Be merry wench, weel have a frolick feaſt,
Here's fleſh enough for to ſuffice us both,
Say ſirrah, wilt thou fight, or doſt thou mean to die?
Muce.
I want a weapon▪ how can I fight?
Bre.
Thou want'ſt a weapon, why then thou yieldſt to die?
Muce.
I ſay not ſo, I do not yield to die.
Bre.
Thou ſhalt not chuſe, I long to ſee thee dead.
Ama.
Yet ſpare him Bremo, ſpare him.
Bre.
Away, I ſay I will not ſpare him.
Muce.
Yet give me leave to ſpeak.
Bre.
Thou ſhalt not ſpeak.
Ama.
Yet give him leave to ſpeak for my ſake.
Bre.
Speak on, but be not over-long.
Muce.
In time of yore, when men-like bruitiſh beaſts
Did lead their lives in loathſome Cells and Woods,
And wholy gave themſelves to witleſs will:
A rude unruly rout, then man to man became
A preſent prey; then might prevailed,
The weakeſt went to wals;
Right was unknown, for wrong was all in all.
As men thus lived in their great outrage,
Behold one Orpheus came (as Poets tell)
And them from rudeneſs unto reaſon brought,
Who led by reaſon ſoon forſook the woods,
In ſtead of Caves they built them Caſtles ſtrong,
Cities and Towns were founded by them then:
Glad were they, they found ſuch eaſe,
And in the end they grew to perfect Amitie.
Weighing their former wickedneſs,
They tearm'd the time wherein they lived then,
A golden age, a good golden age.
New Bremo (for ſo heard I thee call'd)
If men which lived tofore as thou doſt now,
Wild in woods, addicted all to ſpoil,
Returned were by worthy Orpheus means:
Let me (like Orpheus) cauſe thee to return
From murther, blood-ſhed, and like cruelties.
What ſhould we fight before we have a cauſe?
No, lets live and love together faithfully:
Ile fight for thee.
Bre.
Fight for me, or die: or fight or elſe thou dieſt.
Ama.
Hold Bremo, hold.
Bre.
Away I ſay, thou troubleſt me.
Ama.
You promiſed me to make me Queen.
Bre.
I did, I mean no leſs.
Ama.
You promiſed that I ſhould have my will.
Bre.
I did, I mean no leſs.
Ama.
Then ſave the Hermites life, for he may ſave us both.
Bre.
At thy requeſt Ile ſave him, but never any after him
Say Hermite, what canſt thou do?
Muce.
Ile wait on thee, ſometime upon thy Queen,
Such ſervice ſhalt thou ſhortly have as Bremo never had.
Exeunt.
Enter Segaſto, the Clown, and Rumbelo.
Segaſt.
Come ſirs, what ſhall I never have you find out Amadine and the Shepherd?
Clow.
I have been thorow the woods, and thorow the woods, and could ſee nothing but an Emmet.
Rum.
Why I ſee a thouſand Emmets, thou meaneſt a little one.
Clow.
Nay, that Emmet that I ſaw was bigger then thou art.
Rum.
Bigger then I? what a fool have you to your man?
I pray you Maſter turn him away.
Segaſt.
But doſt thou hear, was he not a man?
Clow.
I think he was, for he ſaid he did lead a ſalt-ſellers life round about the woods.
Seg.
Thou wouldſt ſay a ſolitarie life about the wood.
Clow.
I think it was indeed.
Rum.
I thought what a fool thou art.
Clow.
Thou art a wiſe man: why he did nothing but ſleep ſince he went.
Seg.
But tell me Mouſe, how did he go?
Clo.
In a white Gown, and a white hat on his head,
And a ſtaff in his hand.
Seg.
I thought ſo, he was an Hermite, that walked a ſolitarie life in the woods.
Well, get you to dinner, and after, never leave ſeeking till you bring ſome news of them, or Ile hang you both.
Exit.
Clow.
How now Rumbelo, what ſhall we do now?
Rum.
Faith Ile whom to dinner, and afterwards to ſleep.
Clow▪
Why then thou wilt be hanged.
Rum.
Faith I care not, for I know I ſhall never find them:
Well, Ile once more abroad; and if I cannot find them,
Ile never come home again.
Clow.
I tell thee what Rumbelo, thou ſhalt go in at one end of the wood, and I at the other, and we will both meet together in the midſt.
Rum.
Content, lets away to dinner.
Exeunt.
Enter Mucedorus ſolus.
Muce.
Unknown to any, here within theſe woods,
With bloody Bremo do I lead my life;
The Monſter he doth murder all he meets,
He ſpareth none, and none doth him eſcape:
Who would continue, who but onely I,
In ſuch a cruel cut-throats company?
Yet Amadine is there, how can I chuſe?
Ah ſilly ſoul, how oftentimes ſhe ſits,
And ſighs, and calls, Come Shepherd, come:
Sweet Mucedorus come ſet me free,
When Mucedorus (Peaſant) ſtands her by;
But here ſhe comes: What news fair Lady,
As you walk theſe woods?
Enter Amadine.
Ama.
Ah Hermite, none but bad,
And ſuch as thou knoweſt.
Muce.
How do you like your Bremo and his woods?
Ama.
Not my Bremo, nor his Bremo woods.
Muce.
And why not yours? methinks he loves you well.
Ama.
I like not him, his love to me is nothing worth.
Muce.
Lady, in this methinks you offer wrong,
To hate the man that ever loves you beſt.
Ama.
Ah Hermite, I take no pleaſure in his love,
Neither doth Bremo like me beſt.
Muce.
Pardon my boldneſs, fair Lady, ſith we both
May ſafely talk now out of Bremoes ſight,
Unfold to me, if you pleaſe, the full diſcourſe,
How, when, and why you came into theſe woods,
And fell into this bloody butchers hands.
Ama.
Hermite I wil: Of late a worthy Shepherd I did love.
Muce.
A Shepherd (Lady) ſure a man unfit to match with you.
Ama.
Hermite, this is true: and when we had—
Muce.
Stay there, the wild man comes,
Refer the reſt until another time.
Enter Bremo.
Bre.
What ſecret tale is this? what whiſpering have we here?
Villain, I charge thee tell thy tale again.
Muce.
If needs I muſt, lo here it is again.
When as we both had loſt the ſight of thee,
It griev'd us both, but ſpecially thy Queen,
Who in thy abſence evers fears the worſt,
Leſt ſome miſchance befall your Royal Grace.
Shall my ſweet Bremo wander through the wood,
Toil to and fro, for to redreſs my want,
Hazard his life, and all to cheriſh me?
I like not this quoth ſhe:
And thereupon crave to know of me,
If I could teach her handle weapons well.
My anſwer was, I had ſmall skill therein:
But gladſome (mighty King) to learn of thee:
And this was all.
Bre.
Waſt ſo? none can miſlike of this:
Ile teach you both to fight, but firſt my Queen begin,
Here take this weapon, ſee how thou canſt uſe it.
Ama.
This is too big, I cannot wield it in mine arm.
Bre.
Is't ſo? wee'l have a knotty Crab-tree ſtaff for thee;
But ſirrah, tell me, what ſaieſt?
Muce.
With all my heart I willing am to learn.
Bre.
Then take my ſtaff and ſee how thou canſt wield it.
Muce.
Firſt teach me to how hold it in mine hand.
Bre.
Thou holdeſt it well; look how he doth,
Thou mayeſt the ſooner learn.
Muce.
Next tell how, and when 'tis beſt to ſtrike.
Bre.
'Tis beſt to ſtrike when time doth ſerve,
Tis beſt to loſe no time.
Muce.
Then now or never it is time to ſtrike.
Bre.
And when thou ſtrikeſt, be ſure to hit the head.
Muce.
The head?
Bre.
The very head.
Muce.
Then have at thine.
He ſtrikes him down dead.
So, lie there and die, a death (no doubt) according to deſert,
Or elſe a worſe, as thou deſerveſt worſe.
Ama.
It glads my heart this Tyrants death to ſee.
Muce.
Now Lady it remains in you
To end the tale you lately had begun,
Being interrupted by this wicked wight:
You ſaid you loved a Shepherd.
Ama.
I, ſo I do, and none but onely him:
And will do ſtill as long as life ſhall laſt.
Muce.
But tell me Lady, ſith I ſet you free,
What courſe of life do you intend to take?
Ama.
I will diſguiſed wander thorow the world,
Till I have found him out.
Muce.
How if you find your Shepherd in theſe woods?
Ama.
Ah! none ſo happy then as Amadine.
He diſcloſeth himſelf.
Muce.
In tract of time a man may alter much:
Say Lady, do you know your Shepherd well?
Ama.
My Mucedorus, hath he ſet me free?
Muce.
He hath ſet thee free.
Ama.
And liv'd ſo long unknown to Amadine?
Muce.
Ay that's a queſtion whereof you may not be reſolved:
You know that I am baniſht from the Court,
I know likewiſe each paſſage is beſet,
So that we cannot long eſcape unknown,
Therefore my will is this, that we return,
Right thorow the thickets to the wild mans Cave,
And there a while live on his proviſion,
Untill the ſearch and narrow watch be paſt:
This is my councel, and I like it beſt.
Ama.
I think the very ſame.
Muce.
Come let's be gone.
The Clown ſearcheth, and fals over the wild man, and ſo caries him away.
Clow.
Nay ſoft ſir, are you here? abot
•
on you
I was like to be hang'd for not finding of you:
We would borrow a certain ſtray Kings daughter of you,
A wench, a wench ſir, we would have.
Muce.
A wench of me? Ile make thee eat my ſword.
Clow.
O Lord, nay, and you are ſo luſty, Ile call a cooling-card for you: O Maſter, Maſter, come away quickly.
Enter Segaſto.
Segaſt.
What's the matter?
Clow.
Look, Amadine and the Shepherd▪ O brave.
Seg.
What minion, have I found you out?
Clow.
Nay that's a lye, I found her out my ſelf.
Seg.
Thou gadding huſwife, what cauſe hadſt thou
To gad abroad?
When as thou knoweſt our wedding day ſo nigh?
Ama.
Not ſo Segaſto, no ſuch thing in hand:
Shew your aſſurance, then Ile anſwer you.
Segaſt.
Thy fathers promiſe my aſſurance is.
Ama.
But what he promis'd he hath not perform'd.
Segaſt.
It reſts in thee for to perform the ſame.
Ama.
Not I.
Segaſt.
And why?
Ama.
So is my will, and therefore even no.
Clow.
Maſter with a none, none ſo.
Segaſt.
Ah wicked villain, art thou here?
Muce.
What need theſe words? weigh them not.
Segaſt.
We weigh them not, proud Shepherd I ſcorn thy company.
Clow.
Weel not have a corner of thy company.
Muce.
I ſcorn not thee, nor yet the leaſt of thine.
Clo.
That's a lie, a would have kild me with his pugs-nando.
Segaſt.
This ſtoutneſs Amadine contents me not.
Ama.
Then ſeek another that may you better pleaſe.
Muce.
Well Amadine it only reſts in thee,
Without delay to make thy choiſe of three:
There ſtands Segaſto, a ſecond here,
There ſtands the third: now make thy choice.
Clow.
A Lord at the leaſt I am.
Ama.
My choice is made, for I will none but thee.
Segaſt.
A worthy mate (no doubt) for ſuch a wife.
Muce.
And Amadine, why wilt thou none but me?
I cannot keep thee as thy father did;
I have no Lands for to maintain thy ſtate:
Moreover, if thou mean to be my wife,
Commonly this muſt be thy uſe,
To bed at midnight, up at four,
Drudge all day, and trudge from place to place,
Whereby our daily victuall for to win;
And laſt of all, which is the worſt of all,
No Princeſs then, but a plain Shepherds wife.
Clow.
Then God gee you good morrow goody Shepherd.
Ama.
It ſhall not need if Amadine do live,
Thou ſhalt be crowned King of Aragon.
Clow.
O Maſter laugh, when he is a King, Ile be a Queen.
Muc.
Then know that which neretofore was known:
I am no Shepherd, no Aragonion I,
But born of Royal blood: my Father's of Valentia King,
My Mother Queen; who for thy ſacred ſake
Took this hard task in hand.
Ama.
Ah how I joy my fortune is ſo good.
Segaſt.
Well now I ſee Segaſto ſhall not ſpeed,
But Mucedorus, I as much do joy
To ſee thee here within our Court of Aragon,
As if a kingdom had befaln me this time:
I with my heart ſurrender her to thee.
He gives her to him.
And look what Right to Amadine I have.
Clow.
What barns door, and born where my Father was Conſtable? a bots on thee, how doſt thou?
Muc.
Thanks Segaſto, but you leveld at the Crown.
Clow.
Maſter, bear this and bear all.
Segaſt.
Why ſo ſirrah?
Clow.
He ſaies you take a gooſe by the Crown.
Segaſt.
Go too ſirrah; away, poſt you to the King,
Whoſe heart is fraught with careful doubts,
Glad him up, and tell him theſe good news,
And we will follow as faſt as we may.
Clow.
I go Maſter, I run Maſter.
Exeunt.
Enter the King and Collin.
King.
Break heart, and end my pallid woes,
My Amadine, the comfort of my life;
How can I joy except ſhe were in ſight?
Her abſence breeds great ſorrow to my ſoul,
And with a thunder breaks my heart in twain.
Collin.
Forbear thoſe paſſions gentle King,
And you ſhall ſee twill turn unto the beſt,
And bring your ſoul to quiet and to joy.
King.
Such joy as death, I do aſſure me that,
And nought but death, except of her I hear,
And that with ſpeed, I cannot ſigh thus long:
But what a tumult do I hear within?
They cry within, Joy and happineſs.
Collin.
I hear a noiſe of over-paſſing joy
Within the Court: my Lord be of good comfort,
And here comes one in haſt.
Enter the Clown running.
Clow.
A King, a King.
Col.
Why how now ſirrah, what's the matter?
Clow.
O 'tis news for a King, tis worth mony.
King.
Why ſirrah, thou ſhalt have ſilver and gold if it be good.
Clow.
O 'tis good, 'tis good Amadine.
King.
O what of her? tell me, and I will make thee a knight.
Clow.
How a Spright, no by Lady, I will not be a Spright.
Maſter get you away, if I be a Spright, I ſhall be ſo lean
I ſhall make you all afraid.
Col.
Then (Sot) the King means to make thee a Gentleman.
Clow.
Why I ſhall want parrell.
King.
Thou ſhalt want for nothing.
Clow.
Then ſtand away, ſtrike up thy ſelf, here they come.
Enter Segaſto, Mucedorus, and Amadine.
Ama.
My gracious Father, pardon thy diſloyall daughter.
King.
What, do mine eyes behold my daughter Amadine?
Riſe up daughter, and let theſe embracing arms
Shew ſome token of thy Fathers joy,
Which ever ſince thy departure hath languiſhed in ſorrow.
Ama.
Dear Father, never were your ſorrows
Greater than my griefs:
Never you ſo deſolate as I comfortleſs:
Yet nevertheleſs knowing my ſelf
To be the cauſe of both, on bended knees
I humbly crave your pardon.
King.
Ile pardon thee (dear daughter) but as for him.
Ama.
Ay Father, what of him?
King.
As ſure as I am King, and wear the Crown,
Ile be reveng'd on that accurſed wretch.
Muc.
Yet worthy Prince, work not thy will in wrath, ſhew favour.
King.
I, ſuch favour as thou deſerveſt.
Muc.
I do deſerve the daughter of a King.
King.
Oh impudent! A Shepherd and ſo inſolent.
Muc.
No Shepherd I, but a worthy Prince.
King.
In fair conceit, not princely born.
Muc.
Yes Princely born, my Father is a King,
My Mother a Queen, and of Valentia both.
King.
What Mucedorus, welcome to our Court,
What cauſe hadſt thou to come to me diſguis'd?
Muc.
No cauſe to fear, I cauſed no offence;
But this, deſiring thy daughters vertues for to ſee,
Diſguis'd my ſelf from out my Fathers Court,
Unknown to any in ſecret I did reſt,
And paſſed many troubles near to death:
So hath your daughter my partaker been.
As you ſhall know hereafter more at large:
Deſiring you, you will give her to me,
Even as mine own, and Soveraign of my life,
Then ſhall I think my travels all well ſpent.
King.
With all my heart, but this,
Segaſto claims my promiſe made tofore,
That he ſhould have her as his only Wife,
Before my Councel when he came from war.
Segaſto, may I crave thee let it paſs,
And give Amadine as Wife to Mucedorus?
Segaſt.
With all my heart, were it a far greater thing,
And what I may to furniſh up their rites,
With pleaſing ſports and paſtimes you ſhall ſee.
King.
Thanks good Segaſto, I will think of this.
Muc.
Thanks good my Lord, and whilſt I live,
Account of me in what I can or may.
Ama.
Good Segaſto, theſe great courteſies
Shall not be forgot.
Clow.
Why hark you Maſter, bones what have you done?
What, given away the wench you made me take ſuch pains for? You are wiſe indeed. Maſs and I had known of that, I would have had her my ſelf: faith Maſter now we may go to breakfaſt with a wood-cock-pie.
Segaſt.
Go too ſirrah▪ you were beſt to leave this knaverie.
King.
Come on my Lords, lets now to Court,
Where we may finiſh up the joyfulleſt day
That ever hapt to a diſtreſſed King:
Were but thy Father the Valentia Lord,
Preſent in view of this combined knot.
A ſhout within: Enter Meſſenger.
What ſhout was that?
Meſ.
My Lord the great
Ʋalentia King,
Newly arriv'd, intreats your preſence.
Muc.
My Father?
King Ara.
Prepared welcoms give him entertainment;
A happier Planet never raign'd then that
Which governs at this hour.
Sound.
Enter the King of Valentia, Anſelmo, Roderigo, Brachius, with others: The King runs and embraceth his Son.
King Val.
Riſe honour of my age, food to my reſt:
Condemn not (mighty King of Aragon)
My rude behaviour, ſo compell'd by nature,
That manners ſtood unknowledged.
King Ara.
What we have to recite would tedious prove
By declaration, therefore in and feaſt,
To morrow the performance ſhall explain
What words conceal: till then Drums ſpeak, Bells ring▪
Give plauſive welcoms to our brother King.
Sound Drums and Trumpets.
Exeunt omnes.
Enter Comedy and Envy.
Com.
How now Envy; what bluſheſt thou already?
Peep forth, hide not thy head with ſhame,
But with courage praiſe a womans deeds;
Thy threats were vain, thou could'ſt do me no hurt,
Although thou ſeemd'ſt to croſs me with deſpight,
I overwhelm'd and turn'd upſide down thy blocks,
And made thy ſelf to ſtumble at the ſame.
Envy.
Though ſtumbled, yet not over-thrown,
Thou canſt not draw my head to mildneſs:
Yet muſt I needs confeſs thou haſt done well,
And plaid thy part with mirth and pleaſant glee:
Say all this; yet canſt thou not conquer me,
Although this time thou haſt got,
Yet not the conqueſt neither.
A double revenge another time Ile have.
Com.
Envy ſpit thy gall;
Plot, work, contrive, create new fallacies,
Teem from thy womb each minute a black Traitor,
Whoſe blood and thoughts have twins conception:
Study to act deeds yet unchronicled,
Caſt native monſters in the moulds of men;
Caſe vicious devils under ſancted robes;
Vnhaſp the wicket where all perjuries rooſt,
And ſwarm this ball with treaſons, do thy worſt,
Thou canſt not (hell-hound) croſs my ſtear too night,
Nor blinde that glory where I wiſh delight.
Envy.
I can, I will.
Com.
Nefarious Hag begin,
And let us tugg till one the maſtery win.
Envy.
Comedy, thou art a ſhallow Gooſe,
Ile overthrow thee in thine own intent,
And make thy fall my Comick merriment.
Com.
Thy policy wants gravity, thou art too weak;
Speak friend, as how?
Envy.
Why thus,
From my foul ſtudy will I hoiſt a wretch,
A lean and hungry meager Canibal,
whoſe jaws ſwell to his eyes with chewing malice;
And him Ile make a Poet.
Com.
Whats that to the purpoſe?
Envy.
This ſcrambling Raven with his needy beard,
Will I whet on to write a Comedy;
Wherein ſhall be compos'd dark ſentences,
Pleaſing to factious brains;
And every otherwhere place me a Ieſt,
Whoſe high abuſe ſhall more torment then blows.
Then I my ſelf (quicker then lightning)
Will flye me to the puiſſant Magiſtrate,
And waiting with a trencher at his back,
In midſt of jollity rehearſe thoſe gauls
(With ſome additions) ſo lately vented in your Theater;
He on this cannot but make complaint
To our great danger, or at leaſt reſtraint.
Com.
Ha, ha, ha, I laugh to hear thy folly:
This is a trap for boys, not men, nor ſuch,
Eſpecially deceitful in their doings,
Whoſe ſtaid diſcretion rules their purpoſes:
I and my faction do eſchew thoſe vices:
But ſee, O ſee, the weary Sun for reſt,
Hath lain his golden compaſs to the Weſt,
Where he perpetual bide, and ever ſhine,
As Davids off-ſpring in his happy Clime.
Stoop Envy, ſtoop, bow to the earth with me,
Lets beg our pardon on our bended knee.
They kneel.
Envy.
My power hath loſt her might, Envies date's expired.
And I amazed am.
Fall down and quake.
Com.
Glorious and wiſe Arch-Caeſar on this earth,
At whoſe appearance Envie's ſtrucken dumb,
And all bad things ceaſe operation:
Vouchſafe to pardon our unwilling errour,
So late preſented to your gracious view,
And weel endeavour with exceſs of pain,
To pleaſe your ſenſes in a choiſer ſtrain.
Thus we commit you to the arms of night,
Whoſe ſpangled carkaſs would for your delight,
Strive to excell the day: be bleſſed then,
Who other wiſhes, let him never ſpeak.
Envy.
Amen.
To Fame and Honour we commend your reſt,
Live ſtill more happy, every hour more bleſt.
FINIS.